


if i ever had your number, i think i would use it

by eversall



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Asexual Raphael, M/M, but...not in the way you think, drunk phone calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: “Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough.“Simon?” Raphael asks.“The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though he knows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”.It starts because Jace and Simon get drunk together one night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent of their impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implement all of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alec grind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt fill from [ yamina ](http://poughkeepsies.tumblr.com/), who always gives me the best prompts omg:
> 
> "your friend wrote your phone number in a public restroom as a prank and my drunk bff has called you with my phone, i'm so sorry, also your friend is a dick" Ft Simon as the poor guy whose phone number Jace has written in the public restroom and Magnus as Raphael's drunk bff, whose phone he used to call Simon.
> 
> ;-; i'm sorry you probably wanted a more lighthearted story but i got a lot of feelings after the last sh episode. 
> 
> title taken from now and later by sage the gemini

It starts because Jace is a _dick_.

Well. To be fair, it starts because Jace and Simon get drunk together one night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent of their impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implement all of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alec grind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.

“Which is _rude_.” Jace informs him as he gets a tattoo across the side of his stomach. Simon makes an agreeable noise, too engrossed in the delicate line of triangles he’s just gotten tattooed across his shoulders. “How are your triangles doing?”

“I think they’re ready to experience the world!” Simon shouts, getting to his feet. The tattoo artist doesn’t even look at him as she puts a hand on his shoulder and shoves him back into his seat. He goes willingly, trying to figure out what he should name the triangles. Luke, Leia, and Anakin? Frodo, Bilbo, and Sam? So many options!

Anyway, Simon figures that if anyone’s to blame, it’s Clary, because if Clary had been there Jace wouldn’t have gotten the _fantastic_ idea to carve Simon’s number into the tiny piece of wall next to the mirror in a bathroom at a gay club. Actually, his idea is just to carve _something_ , and when he asks Simon for any number between one and one hundred, Simon rattles off the digits to his cell because that’s the only thing he can remember. Jace doesn’t seem to question the fact that the number is definitely not between one and one hundred, but instead dutifully transcribes it into the wall. And that’s the story of how Simon’s phone number ends up in a hidden corner of a club restroom.

Well. That’s not the _entire_ story.

.

Simon’s working late when he gets the call. He’s hunched over a list of potential mergers, chewing on the end of his pen as he types in risk analysis and bemoans the fact that his boss is a hardass, and also Simon is _hard_ for his boss’ _ass_ , and isn’t that embarrassing? But he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the fact that Raphael asked him to finish these, and Simon sort of hates the guy but sort of loves him too. It’s – complicated.

Lily, who’s the other data analyst and who he shares an office with, likes to gleefully tell him that it’s not _that_ complicated, and they’ve all got bets going on when Raphael and Simon ‘crack from the tension and start banging’, and that she thinks he’s good for Raphael. That’s the hardest part to hear. Simon can take all the innuendoes and the good-natured teasing, but when people genuinely tell him to go for it he sort of shuts down. Because – nope, there’s no way that _Raphael Santiago_ , a powerhouse of a business mogul, would ever be interested in Simon Lewis.

He’s lost in his self-deprecating thoughts when he gets a call, and he frowns as he checks the screen. Speak of the devil – why is Raphael calling him this late at night? He cautiously takes the call and brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“HELLOOOO, I’M LOOKING FOR A GOOD TIME!” A voice shouts down the line- a voice that is _definitely_ not his boss’. Simon yelps, pulling the phone away from his ear and staring down at it, bewildered, before he brings it back up.

“I’m…sorry?” he hedges. There’s sounds of a scuffle on the other end, a muffled thump, and then –

“A good time!” the voice continues, the words slurred. “That’s why your number’s here, right? For a _good time_? Well, have I got a deal – no, a _steal_ – no, stop it Ra – let _go of me_ , I’m gonna get you laid – anyway my friend Raphael is _sorely_ in need of a good time because he has a _stick up his ass_ so – “

Simon’s having _conniptions_ at this point. His mouth is hanging open and he’s staring blankly at the screen, trying to figure out how this is his life. The other man’s voice cuts off, and then starts up again, sounding out of breath like he’s running.

“So listen carefully I need you to do whatever it is you do because Raphael keeps mooning over this new employee he has and _wow_ he needs to ask that dude out already so if you could blow him or something and restore his confidence- “

“BANE!” a clearer voice shouts, and oh, _that_ voice Simon recognizes. He winces as the phone makes a static noise, more alarming sounds coming from it, before Raphael speaks.

“Hi,” he says, his voice low and raspy and oh _God_ , Simon wants to die rather than have this conversation. “I’m so sorry about my friend, he’s very, very drunk. He found your number in the bathroom at Pandemonium, I don’t know if – “

“My _number_?” Simon splutters, dropping his pen. “ _What_?”

“Yes. I presume you didn’t know anything about this.” Raphael continues. “I’m so sorry to disturb you – “

“Fucking Jace.” Simon mutters, half to himself, as memories of their night out rushes to the forefront of his mind. “Of course he’d do something idiotic like that.”

“Jace – Jace Wayland?” Raphael asks, and Simon freezes. Shit, how dumb is he that he forgot his boss doesn’t know he’s talking to Simon? “Do I…know you?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Simon closes his eyes and prays _dear God please open up a hole in the ground straight to the nearest volcano and dump me in there_.

“Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough.

“ _Simon_?” Raphael asks.

“The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though he knows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”

“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”

“So, funny story,” Simon runs a hand through his hair, “You know Jace, one of the legal reps for the Clave – well, he and I went out one night and…he might have put my number there? We were pretty…out of it, to be fair.”

“Right.” Raphael says, and there’s a strange note in his voice. “You know that’s a gay club.”

“Yeah?” Simon frowns. “I know. Who was your friend on the line?”

“Oh, Magnus.” There’s the unmistakable sound of a whoop in the background, presumably the Magnus Raphael is talking about. “He owns Pandemonium. He just, ah, is going through something.”

“Poor guy.” Simon commiserates, before something occurs to him with growing dread. “Wait, Raphael, Magnus said something about – you having a _thing_ for someone at work.”

“That’s none of your concern.” Raphael says, his voice firm and no-nonsense. Fortunately, Simon’s pretty immune to that voice, because it’s always coupled with that hint of a smile tugging at Raphael’s lips as he looks at Simon, so.

“Oh but it _is_.” Simon wheedles, his heart caught somewhere between elation and dread. If he finds out tonight that Raphael actually has the hots for someone else, it’s going to suck. There’s no way around it. But still – isn’t it better to _know_ then to be left in limbo? “Come on, Raphael, I’m bored and I need something entertaining – “

“You’re bored? Go watch one of your ridiculous shows.” Raphael responds. “Also, I don’t think my…feelings…are entertaining.”

“There’s no TV in the office, I can’t watch anything. And I didn’t mean to imply anything less about your feelings.” Simon hastens to say. “But, you know. It’s you! Who has the mighty Raphael Santiago fallen for?”

“The office?” Raphael asks, ignoring the rest of Simon’s sentence. “You’re still at work?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Simon says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Just finishing up the risk analysis.”

“It’s almost eleven. Go home, Simon.” Raphael says, his voice tired. “I’m sure someone is waiting up for you.”

“Nope.” Simon huffs out a laugh, idly tracing the keys on his keyboard. “I, uh – no one’s waiting up for me.”

“No?” Raphael asks. His voice is quiet now, and Simon almost misses the next words. “That’s a shame.”

“Right.” Simons says, his voice thick. There’s a sudden lump in his throat that he can’t swallow around, something nameless and infinitely terrifying, full of possibilities, settling around him at Raphael’s words. “Um. You?”

“What?”

“Is anyone waiting up for you?”

“No.” Raphael laughs bitterly. “No, I – don’t have what it takes to be in a relationship.”

“Don’t have what it – are you drunk?”

“No.” Raphael is silent for a while before he speaks again. “Just very tired.”

“Then go home and sleep.” Simon rubs a hand over his face, the adrenaline draining out of him as he considers that it really was ridiculous to hope, just a little, that Raphael thought of Simon the same way Simon thought of him. “I’ll finish up here and leave soon too.”

“Alright.” Raphael says on the other end, and then he hangs up. Simon stares at his phone for a few minutes before he fires off a text to Jace telling him exactly where he can shove himself and his drunk ideas. The tattoos were nice, but the late-night phone call from his _boss_ breaking his heart was decidedly not nice.

He shuffles together his reports and stacks them up, regarding them warily. It’s time for him to go home and sleep off his melancholy mood. He shuts down his computer and is just grabbing his keys when he hears footsteps.

“Hello?” He calls, cautiously peering out of his office. In the dim light, he sees someone familiar walking down the hallway. “Raphael? What the hell are you doing here?”

Raphael comes to a stop in front of him, his eyes intense as he looks at Simon. He’s wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and to be honest Simon did not know Raphael owned anything other than suits. He looks really fucking _good_ , as always, and his usually perfectly styled hair is mussed lightly, making him look like he just had sex. Simon swallows.

“You should know what happened tonight.” Raphael says seriously, and Simon frowns.

“I _know_ what happened.” He reasons. “It’s fine, honestly, Raphael, you couldn’t have known it was my number that your friend was calling.”

“He called the number because he was drunk, yeah, but also because he genuinely wanted me to get my mind off of my feelings.”

“Right.” Simon attempts to smile, but judging by the look on Raphael’s face it came out more like a grimace. “Is everything okay?” Raphael is silent for a long time, and then he swallows audibly.

“You.” He says to Simon. “They’re feelings for you.”

Simon is floored for a second, unable to do anything but gape at Raphael. The blanket of terror and elation from before is back, crashing into him. He feels like a string pulled taut, hovering on the edge of a precipice. He never could have imagined that it would be _Raphael_ instigating this.

“Really?” Simon manages to croak out. Raphael nods, and Simon breaks out into a grin. “Oh, thank _God_ because I feel the same way. About you.”

Raphael _flinches_ at that revelation. Simon frowns then, taking in the tight lines across Raphael’s face and the way he’s clenching his fists. “Raphael? What’s wrong?”

“You should know.” He gets out, his voice tight. “When Magnus called and said those things about…having a good time, and all that – I don’t do that. Magnus wouldn’t even have called and said those things if he weren’t drunk himself. It was a joke.”

“I figured as much.” Simon says slowly. “But you’re trying to say something else here?”

“Yeah, I’m.” Raphael exhales, and crosses his arms defensively. “I’m asexual. I’m never going to want sex.”

 _Oh_.

“I feel very strongly about you, Simon.” Raphael continues, his voice veering into anguished territory, leaving Simon dazed with the amount of emotion that’s behind his words. “I didn’t think I would ever feel anything about anyone, and I was _okay_ with that. But you’re – different. And you deserve to be happy. This isn’t how I imagined telling you, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He says, shrugging his shoulders and giving Simon a self-deprecating smile. It’s heartbreaking.

“ _You_ make me happy.” Simon blurts out, desperate to alleviate the sadness that Raphael is carrying. “I always – your sense of humor is really aggressive and it took me a long time to parse out that when you were insulting me or not, but – my feelings for you aren’t based in sex.” He says.

Raphael makes a startled noise and steps back, searching Simon’s face for something. Simon swallows and stands his ground.

“You – really?” Raphael asks.

“I’m not gonna lie and say that I immediately know what to do about it.” Simon says firmly. “We need to sit down and have a long talk about your boundaries and my boundaries and how this is going to work out, but God – I like you. A lot. I want to work it out. I want to _try_ , and I – I mean, do you want that?”

“More than you could know.” Raphael says slowly. Simon reaches out a tentative hand.

“Can I…?” he asks, his voice unsteady. Raphael makes a noise and pulls Simon forward, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. Simon slides his arms around Raphael’s back, burying his face in Raphael’s hair and sighing contentedly.

“You use too much product in your hair.” Simon mutters, nosing over the stiff strands.

“This is a romantic moment.” Raphael fires back, tightening his grip on Simon’s waist. His voice is muffled as he presses his face into Simon’s neck. “You’re ruining it.”

“I’m making it better.” Simon counters, laughing. Raphael pulls back and looks at him, his eyes warm and trusting as he leans in to brush his nose along Simon’s cheek.

“You make everything better.” He whispers hoarsely, his voice soft and awestruck.

“So do you.” Simon whispers back, his voice equally as awestruck.

It’s almost midnight, and they’re in a drab high-rise office building in the middle of New York. Raphael smells like alcohol and sharp perfume, like the club he’s made his way from, and Simon’s phone number is still etched into the corner of a wall somewhere in a public restroom, something he really should take care of. He and Raphael still need to figure out how a boss-employee relationship is going to work, and they’re standing next to rows and rows of cubicles. It’s not exactly a fairy-tale romance. It’s the furthest thing from that – it’s just them swaying slightly, wrapped up in each other, under the weak fluorescent lights of the office.

But it’s more perfect than anything Simon could have ever imagined, because Raphael is _here_ , in his arms, and that’s enough of a fairy-tale for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come prompt me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)


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